Love In Traffic
by Firerosemon
Summary: "Of course Mr. Riddle." He replied, pulling his uniformed black cap down so they hid his eyes which revealed nothing about how he was feeling. "I understand." The cap shifted back up to show the striking green eyes of one Harry James Potter. It wasn't easy being the personal driver of Tom Marvolo Riddle but somehow he got through it. HP/TR [AU!No Magic]
1. Prologue

**_Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, J.K Rowling does._**

I don't know what I am doing, sorry.

My first chaptered fanfiction! Go easy on me please. I'd love some feedback on what I can improve on. Expect updates every 5 months. (Seriously.) So, this is just the prologue!

Special thanks to Paranoid Blue for all the help she gave me on this fic~ Hugs for her.

**Fic warnings:** Possible explicit slash content later on, possible swearing (Possible everything...just kidding)

* * *

He kept his hands wrapped tightly around the wheel, leather gloves creasing from the pressure he was using to grip the control. He looked ahead at the road in front of him, his eyes alert as always. The usual monotony was easy to fall into and strangely, he found himself comforted by it. The sleek black Rolls-Royce he was driving rolled slowly to a stop as the traffic light turned red. He found his gaze wandering absently to the rear view mirror where he could see the reflection of the opaque window separating him and his employer.

His employer...

Tom Marvolo Riddle Jr. Current CEO of his own successful business. The Riddle family legacy, one could call it. It had been passed to Tom by his father, Tom Riddle Sr when he retired. Successful was a bit of an understatement though really. The business was known worldwide, profit flooding in like a river that burst its banks, the flow of income seemed never-ending.

It might seem unusual that he knew this seeing as he was just a personal driver but one heard a lot when they had nothing to do except loiter around while waiting for instructions. Magazines and newspapers helped too of course. Nobody paid him any real attention, he had, after all a small right to be there. That didn't mean they were interested in him in the first place. With Tom Riddle there, everyone else seemed to fade into the background, himself included. Not that he particularly cared that he was being ignored. He was used to it, thanks to his childhood.

The traffic light caught his attention when it shifted from red to orange and then green. He switched gears before stepping on the pedal and driving forward. The interior of the car never ceased to awe him. When he'd started the job, every car that he'd driven Riddle in seemed absolutely priceless. He didn't think he'd ever touched something as expensive as those cars. Riddle seemed to throw his money around like it was worthless paper. He couldn't blame the rich business man. After all, if you had the money to spare, why shouldn't you spend it?

He'd been hesitant at first, wary of touching anything in the car lest he break it. It added to the nervousness of starting a new job and he was even more worried he would screw something up. He couldn't help but think of the worst possible things that could happen in the situation, it was an unhealthy trait that developed in his childhood.

He'd worried for nothing really, everything went pretty well. Not the best it could have been but alright. He was deemed acceptable by his employer, Riddle.

Speaking of his employer, he was snapped out of his musings when the privacy screen began to roll down. He briefly wondered why Riddle had not used the phone connection instead as he kept most of his attention on the road.

There was nothing separating them now and he caught a glimpse at Riddle's handsome face as the man turned to face the front. Certainly, no one could call the man ugly with a face like that. High, aristocratic cheekbones, dark eyes that seemed to gleam red as the light hit them. Thin, pale lips that wouldn't suit anyone else but seemed to suit him perfectly.

Not that he was looking at Riddle of course.

"I've changed my mind." The business man drawled rather suddenly, scrunching up his nose as he seemed to think for a moment "Take me home instead." He sniffed contemptuously once, something had apparently put him in a bad mood.

He couldn't for the life of him figure out what had caused the sudden change of mood in his employer but it was a usual occurrence so he ignored it. He suppressed a sigh, stopping the car as he prepared to turn and go back the way he came.

"Of course Mr. Riddle." He replied, pulling his uniformed black cap down so they hid his eyes which revealed nothing about how he was feeling. "I understand." The cap shifted back up to show the striking green eyes of one Harry James Potter. It wasn't easy being the personal driver of Tom Marvolo Riddle but somehow he got through it.


	2. Chapter 1

**_Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, J.K Rowling does._**

I don't even know what i did to Tom. I just wrote a bunch of bullshit and bam, i called it a chapter. I'm sorry. This chapter is kinda short so sorry about that as well. No Tomarry interaction here sorry, if you guys are still reading after this, there will be Tomarry interaction in the next chapter. Forgive me

and to the guest reviewer who said this was kinky. okay, i understand your enthusiasm. Truly I do. Thanks for the favs and the reviews everybody!

Also, **important! **I'm looking for a Beta, who will help me with this train wreck, by reading over my stuff/editing and suggesting plot ideas? Please I'm desperate. You will get to find out what happens at the end of the fic~ (my attempt at temptation) Ok, thanks! Just PM me if you are interested.

* * *

Harry sighed as he shuffled out of his bedroom in his pajamas, his hair mussed. He made his way over to the small breakfast nook and collapsed into a seat. He adjusted the askew, circle shaped spectacles on his face, looking around the kitchen. His stomach growled loudly, reminding him exactly why he had come into the kitchen. He stretched his arms above his head, his spine arching before he stood up.

He was interrupted on his way over to the fridge when his Godfather paraded into the kitchen. Harry's eyebrows shot into his hairline and he was certain that if he had been eating something he would have choked on it.

"What are you wearing?" He asked incredulously, staring at Sirius's clothes with horror. Maybe he was having a nightmare? Sirius frowned at his reaction, lifting his arms and doing a twirl for show.

"You don't like it?" Sirius's bottom lip protruded as he tugged at the collar of the bright footie pajamas. Harry opened his mouth to say something but he really did not know what to say about the gaudy choice of clothing so he just shut it instead. Sirius looked like he was fighting a grin at his reaction so Harry rolled his eyes before deciding to humour his Godfather.

"It looks lovely, Sirius." He replied dryly. Sirius pouted as if he had expected Harry to say something else.

"Maurice gave it to me." The man spoke casually, still staring down at his footie pajamas. Harry's eyebrows rose when he heard that but he tried not to let the surprise show too much in his expression.

"Maurice? Oh that was nice of her." Harry spoke noncommittally. Maurice being Sirius's girlfriend of a few months. His Godfather seemed to swap partners faster than he changed his socks. Harry thought that was a fitting way to put it and was pretty sure that 'Maurice' would become a 'Susan' or something similar in the next few weeks.

"Yup!" Sirius replied simply, wiggling his eyebrows in a way that implied something had happened. Harry had no interest in knowing anything of that nature and found a grimace forming on his lips at the thought of it.

"I think she's getting a little too clingy though." Sirius continued, going over to the cupboard on the wall and withdrawing a cereal box. Harry got up, humming affirmatively to show that he was listening to his Godfather's woes as he poured himself a glass of orange juice.

"She seems alright besides that though." Sirius had paused in his act of preparing his cereal and was now leaning his back against the counter, peering up at the ceiling absently.

"That's good then." Harry put down his now empty glass in the sink and proceeded to sift around in the cutlery drawer until he found a spoon. Sirius had a dazed grin on his face and Harry momentarily wondered what he was thinking about. He dragged Sirius's bowl across the counter so it was in front of him and Sirius didn't even notice.

"You're such a good listener, pup!" Sirius sounded so grateful that Harry almost felt guilty for what he was doing. He had even used his nickname for Harry which was an indicator for his good mood. The nickname had come from the fact that a lot of people called Sirius a 'dog' due to his womanizing ways. Harry didn't really mind the nickname coming from Sirius because it was a form of affection.

"Thanks Sirius." Harry spoke distractedly, depositing his spoon in the full cereal bowl and carrying it over to where he had sat previously. As soon as he began to eat, Sirius seemed to snap out of whatever world he had been in and looked confused as to when Harry had gotten cereal. The older man turned around slowly to find his bowl had vanished.

"Hey!" Sirius exclaimed in surprise and Harry snickered around the spoon in his mouth "Pup! That's not cool." He was sporting a pout and was looking disapprovingly at Harry who did nothing but bat his lashes innocently.

"Oh, don't look at me like that! With your big green ey-Aw, c'mon pup!" Apparently Sirius couldn't take the look for very long and he ended up just leaving the topic of Harry stealing his breakfast.

Eventually after a little while, they were both sitting down peacefully at the table, eating their respective breakfasts. Harry did not have to go to work today as Riddle had said that he was going to stay home all day. Whatever suited the man, Harry didn't particularly care as long as it didn't affect his pay. They were rather tight on money right now so every penny counted.

Harry had been absently swirling the milk around in his bowl as he looked over the newspaper from yesterday that had been left on the table when Sirius got up to get dressed. Sirius still had work of course, and he couldn't afford a day off. Harry watched Sirius leave the room before sighing and standing up to wash the dishes left by him and Sirius.

By the time he left the kitchen, Sirius was standing by the front door in his cheap suit and coat, getting ready to leave. Harry stood awkwardly in the hallway, feeling like some sort of housewife that was watching their husband leave to go to work. Actually, that was a disturbing thought, he tried to erase it from his mind.

Harry knew that Sirius disliked his boring office job, he had always been one of those freer souls that hated being confined. Harry also knew that Sirius secretly wanted to be a sports coach but he was always turned down because of his criminal record. Even though Sirius was proven innocent, whenever he mentioned that he had spent 10 years in prison, people were immediately wary of him.

Harry loved his Godfather, he really did. He was Harry's family, and he had taken Harry away from the Dursley's. He couldn't fathom what his life would be like right now if he had continued to live at the Dursley's. He tried not to think too much on it.

"Alright, I gotta go now or I'll be late." Sirius spoke, slinging a worn leather satchel over his shoulder. Harry watched him open the front door before glancing back at where he was standing in the middle of the hallway. Sirius paused, looking as if he was remembering something before his face lit up in realisation.

"Oh, yeah! Pup, the Weasley's invited us over for dinner again tonight. Okay that's it, bye Harry. See you later!"

"See you later, Sirius." Harry barely had time to utter his farewell before the front door closed behind his Godfather. He sighed for what seemed like the hundredth time, though there was a fond smile on his lips this time. Just like Sirius to remember something last minute.

Harry disliked going over to the Weasley's for dinner when invited, not because he didn't enjoy their company, not at all. It was because they were struggling for money even more than Harry and Sirius were. He felt like he was mooching off of them, not a pleasant feeling. They both ended up going anyway because Molly Weasley was a force to be reckoned with and would not take 'no' as an answer. Though it was a little irritating, Harry couldn't help but admire how strong she was. He could see where Ginny got it from.

He would say he was quite close with the Weasley family, except maybe Percy, but then again Percy had always been a snob. His closest friends were Ron, Ginny and Hermione. They had all met at school and a bond just seemed to form, a little later with Ginny seeing as she was a year younger than them though. They had their ups and downs, particularly with Ron, but Harry could confidently say that he could rely on them.

Harry yawned, turning around and glancing around the house. He might as well clean up a little, Sirius was such a pig. With that thought in mind, he set himself to the task.

* * *

Tom threw the papers aside, resting his elbows on the large wooden desk he was working on and rubbing his eyes. It would be a wise decision to take a break, after all straining your eyes by doing paperwork for hours isn't healthy. He rested his chin in his hands, staring down blankly at the desk for a few moments. He wasn't thinking of anything in particular, just resting he supposed.

He was sitting in his dimly lit study alone in the evening, reading and signing over some things he needed to get done by tomorrow.

He found his gaze wandering to the unlit fireplace which had a sofa in front of it. He enjoyed sitting in front of the flames and basking in the warmth of them. He supposed the whole manor was rather old fashioned, it was what attracted it to him in the first place though. He had a penchant for things like that, vintage one could call it.

His bookshelves were lined up against the wall, stuffed with so many books that it looked like it would collapse under the weight at any moment. Collection was another habit of his he realised aloofly. Having things that he could call his own, that nobody had ownership of, satisfied him. Perhaps it was because when he was younger he had only the bare essentials that he could call his own and things that he desired always belonged to someone else.

Envy.

He didn't like to think too much on it.

The entire room would have seemed cold and unfriendly to anyone else who walked inside but strangely Tom found it quite comforting. He had designed the entire room himself after all, it was all suited to his tastes, the walls being a dark shade of cerise and the floor being dark mahogany. When his father saw the room, he had commented that it was perfect for a cold-hearted being such as himself. He was like a snake, the man had said and he relied on the warmth of the fire in the fireplace to keep him warm.

Tom couldn't help the hollow chuckle that escaped his lips, echoing in the vast room. So very like his father, to hide a barb in a compliment. Perhaps that was where he had picked it up from? Oh most definitely would he say that his family were good at using their words as knives, breaking lesser beings down easily. Or maybe it was a trait he had developed when he lived in an orphanage when he was younger. Possibly. All traces of humour left him when he picked up on the direction his thoughts were heading. A time when he was weak and had nobody to rely on but himself. Self preservation was dominant in that time.

It might seem a little ridiculous to other people considering his young age, seven years old but of course they wouldn't understand unless they lived through it themselves. Then his saviour had arrived, disguised in the form of his father, Tom Riddle Sr just as he had secretly hoped someone would.

Of course, as soon as he was adopted his dreams were crushed rather ruthlessly. Though he wouldn't admit it to anybody else, even though he was bitter on the outside some part of him longed for somewhere to belong; a family. He had hoped this dream would come true when his father adopted him and took him away from the orphanage to live with him and his step mother, Flora Riddle.

Unfortunately that didn't happen. He soon learned rather quickly that they just wanted a heir and since Flora was unable to carry children to term they decided he was the best second choice. It wasn't hard to piece this together, even with his young age plus that he had overheard them talking about it a few times helped him understand. They thought him a dim child at first, but of course he had proved them wrong, secretly craving their attention which he never fully got. He became exactly what his father wanted of course, a person who could successfully carry on the business.

They would never suspect he had an ulterior motive to being their figurehead to control.

Tom wondered why he was reflecting on the past in the dim lighting of his study. He glanced down at the sheets scattered across the desk but knew he probably wouldn't finish it tonight. He could always do it early in the morning tomorrow. That sounded like a good plan.

He decided to go to bed, it was a little earlier than he usually slept but it didn't matter. His estate was empty of course, as it usually was. Tom knew that the only people who came to his manor besides the maid and the gardener were his parents and that was quite rare. They, of course, preferred that he came to them instead of them coming to him. It irked him but he hid it well.

Right now all he wanted to do was unwind in bed and maybe his hand might wander to his alcohol cabinet to help him with that. That sounded like a good plan.


	3. Chapter 2

**_Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, J.K Rowling does._**

Sorry. I took a while. The POV in this chapter switches a fair amount of times, if that bothers you or you don't mind it or what, I'd appreciate if you told me. Uploading this was a terrible distraction from my exam revision, hah.

Thanks a lot to my beta, MikoAkako! x

* * *

Tom closed the door behind him with a gentle thud that echoed in the vast entrance hall. The entire manor seemed cold and unfriendly to him. He slid the key to his parent's residence into the pocket of his trousers, taking a few steps forward. He knew they would be in his Father's study just like they said they would be.

He cast one more sharp glance around the empty hall before heading towards the stairs, knowing his way around better than he knew the back of his hand. As he walked, he recalled the rather troublesome day he'd had. Profits had been going down for some reason; not drastically thankfully, so it wasn't too bad. Just some employee being difficult and he was forced to threaten them with the sack. He didn't fire them though. He was, after all, rather...merciful.

As he approached the door of the study, he could hear Flora's high pitched, almost nasally voice and it grated on his nerves. Women. Such irritating creatures. Of course, he could reluctantly admit that not all women were pathetic, simpering parasites like Flora. Like Bellatrix for example, though she was a little too enthusiastic. Tom pushed down on the handle of the door, swinging it open and walking inside. There was a fire crackling in the fireplace that was placed on the side of the room, radiating warmth throughout the entire room. It was the first thing he noticed along with the fact that Flora had gone silent with his entrance. The second thing Tom noticed was his father.

Tom Riddle Sr. was sitting behind his desk, unconsciously mimicking a position Tom was in a few days ago. It couldn't be denied that Tom looked very much like his father, with only slight differences. Quite obviously, Tom Sr. looked noticeably older than his son, with greying hair at his temples and crow's feet at the corner of his eyes. These things did nothing to detract from the aura of power the man seemed to exude; merely his age seemed to add to it.

Any genes that Tom could have inherited from Merope seemed to be dominated by the genes from Tom Sr. He was glad for that, as it made it easier for him to forget that he was related to such a weak person. After all, who couldn't even live for their son? The one they just gave birth to as well... Tom cut off his thoughts with disgust, wondering why he was musing on the past so suddenly lately.

Flora shifting from her place next to the window brought Tom's piercing gaze onto her and, as per usual, he hid his dislike with practiced ease. She was dressed up and let her curled golden blonde hair loose. She looked significantly younger than his father and Tom wondered if it had anything to do with the fact that she seemed to enjoy spending the majority of his father's money on beauty products like anti-aging creams. Most likely. It seemed they both disliked signs of the inevitable.

Her rouged lips pressed together tightly to form one thin line as she took in the sight of his tall, thin form standing there in front of his father's desk, looking for all to the world like somebody who was successful. His dark eyes met her murky green ones and some hidden message of mutual dislike seemed to pass silently through the air. He disliked her very much but he couldn't deny there was some sort of respect from him for her lurking underneath the surface of their interactions. Though a lot of the time she acted like it, she was not a complete moron. She turned to stare meaningfully at his father, raising her meticulously plucked brows. Tom Riddle Sr. blinked slowly at his wife, an amused look passing over his face briefly before it vanished as soon as it came.

"Son." The smooth tenor of his father's voice sounded when he finally greeted his son.

"Father," Tom greeted him in return, his voice seeming to match the other's perfectly as if he was mocking the apathetic greeting. The corners of his father's eyes tightening were the only show of his displeasure. It was silent except for the sound of the fire burning away and Flora shuffling restlessly in her high heels. The two men's eyes were locked, neither willing to look away first. The atmosphere was undeniably tense and of course the one who was watching was bothered by it.

Tom Riddle Sr. looked away first making Tom feel smug at the small, childish victory he had gotten over his father.

"Take a seat." The man gestured to the single yet expensive looking leather sofa that was placed in front of his desk. Tom curled his fingers around the back of it so he could pull it out further to get room to sit down. It scraped against the wooden floor, letting out an irritating screeching noise that Tom saw made Flora scrunch her face up in a way that looked like she had just swallowed a lemon. Not an attractive look on her.

He sat down in one fluid movement, his back straight and with part of his mind hoping that he hadn't creased the suit he was wearing.

"Would you like a drink, son?" The man behind the desk questioned politely. Tom just nodded shortly in reply. It would be rude to refuse after all, wouldn't it?

Tom Riddle Sr. twined his fingers together, resting his hands in front of him on the desk before looking over at where Flora was standing, leaning against the wall next to the window in an almost provocative way. She was admiring her manicured nails almost as if she were bored but they both knew that she was listening very closely , peeking through her lashes.

"Flora, dear," Tom Riddle Sr. added the term of endearment almost like an afterthought. "Could you pour us some drinks?" He smiled in that annoyingly fake way of his and Flora returned it in full force.

"Of course love." She batted her fake eyelashes, sashaying over to his father's alcohol cabinet. Though Tom had never witnessed it first hand, he knew that they were having marriage troubles. He was just surprised it took this long for their relationship to weaken; it had been how many years? Quite a lot.

"Thank you, mother." He spoke slyly as she set down glasses in front of both of them, picking up the decanter and beginning to pour the alcohol, brandy by the look of it. It worked just like he expected it to when she glanced up to glare at him with annoyance. She hated it when he called her 'mother' because she knew it was his way of insulting her. She tilted the decanter a little higher as she poured his drink, filling the glass up with more than he would probably drink.

"It was my pleasure." She smiled in a sickeningly sweet way, stoppering the decanter and going to put it back. Tom Riddle Sr. watched her saunter away with an undecipherable look in his eye before turning to Tom with a pleasant smile on his face. The older man opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by Tom before he had the chance to say anything.

"Let me guess? You invited me here to talk about that business deal," Tom drawled, trying not to sneer at how predictable his father was. Tom Riddle Sr.'s eyes flashed at the tone Tom used and he could quite clearly see his father was struggling to maintain his composure.

"It will help the success of the company," The man replied tightly, making Tom scoff.

"Please. It will ruin the company." Tom was absolutely certain that if they went ahead with the deal that the success of the company would go down rapidly. It was, essentially, a stupid deal. Though for some reason his father couldn't see that and was adamant that the deal would help them. Tom wondered when the man had become so blind. His old age must be affecting him.

Tom Riddle Sr. was obviously not in a patient mood, that much was obvious. The man sat back in his chair, staring levelly at Tom. Neither of them had touched their drinks.

"It can't ruin it any more than you have." Tom Riddle Sr. spoke after a moment of silence and the statement seeming to hang in the air. If Tom wasn't feeling angry before then he was certainly feeling angry now. Even Flora who was hanging around the edge of the room looked surprised at Tom Riddle Sr.'s words.

"Oh, is that so?" Tom questioned, seemingly calm but he was very much the opposite. He found himself grasping his glass and pushing back his chair, standing up. Some of the alcohol sloshed out of the glass and onto his hand but he ignored it. He began to pace the length of the room with small practiced steps, hoping it would work off his fury. He stopped when he was next to the fireplace, his back to his father.

"Why can't you see that it will be good for the compa-" Tom cut off his father's attempt at reasoning with him with a scathing remark.

"You're retired; you're not in charge anymore!" Tom whipped around, a sneer on his lips as he glared at his father. Any attempts of composure seemed to be thrown out of the window. His patience had been tried too much on this subject, before when he and his father were talking on the phone and now as well?

Tom Riddle Sr.'s features seem to twist into something ugly and he stood up, opening his mouth to retort to Tom's insult. He was interrupted by Flora, surprisingly, before he could say anything.

"Don't speak to your father like that!" Her high pitched voice grated on Tom's last nerve and he spun to face her, something that could be considered a snarl on his lips.

"Shut up!" He snapped before he could stop himself. She flinched at the look of fury on his face, almost colliding with the wall behind her. Tom's hand was clenched so tightly around the glass that he feared that it would shatter from the mere force. All of a sudden he couldn't cope with the rage rolling around inside of him and he needed to express it in some way. He needed to get out of this room. Away from his parents.

He spun on his heel, throwing the glass full of brandy into the fireplace. He did not stick around for even a second to watch the flames flare up, almost spitting as they roared from the extra fuel they received. He strode towards the door, his hand slick with alcohol as he tugged on the door handle, throwing the door open.

"Tom! Don't you dare-" Tom didn't bother to hear the rest of his father's shout as he left the room, his anger acting like some sort of adrenaline, prompting him to leave the manor as soon as he could. His fingernails dug into the palm of his hands as he clenched his fists, angry at himself for losing control. He could only try to reign in his temper as he stormed down the stairs, heading for the front door.

* * *

Harry was sitting in the car, parked outside of Riddle manor as he waited for Riddle to be done with whatever it was he was doing in his parent's home. He was reclining in the driver's seat, relaxing with a phone held to his ear as he chatted amiably with Ginny. It was sometime in the late afternoon, close to evening. Ron and Hermione had gone out somewhere together, on a date most likely. They'd been dating for almost two years so Harry wasn't surprised, he was just surprised that it took so long for Ron to even work up the courage to ask Hermione to be his girlfriend. He knew that Ron had liked Hermione for years, since they were in school together even. Considering that they were all around twenty four years old, it definitely took Ron a while.

Ginny was more than happy to answer to phone so they ended up talking, not about anything particular though...

"She had the nerve to be rude to me right in front of my face! Can you believe it Harry?" Ginny had been ranting about one of her co-workers for a while now and Harry tried to pretend he was interested but he really couldn't.

"Uhuh, that's unbelievable," He agreed just to appease her but no matter how rude it seemed, he really didn't care what Lavender did. Ginny worked as a fitness instructor at a local leisure center and they had just recently hired Lavender Brown. There was no love lost between the two.

"I can't believe that Ron used to date her." While Ginny continued to vent, something Harry saw from the corner of his eyes caught his attention. It was Riddle.

He was leaving his parent's house and he was quite obviously very pissed off. Harry's eyes widened at the sight and he almost dropped the phone as he sat forward. He definitely didn't want to bring Riddle's anger down onto him. He picked up his cap from where he'd thrown it into the passenger seat carelessly and jammed it onto his head.

"I gotta go Ginny, bye!" He spoke hurriedly into the phone as Riddle came closer to the car.

"Harr-" Harry cut her off by ending the call and shoving the device into his pocket. He pressed the button for ignition, starting up the car as Riddle threw open the back door and got inside. Harry glanced uncertainly at Riddle as the man pressed the button which automatically closed the door he'd just opened. Before Harry could say anything the man looked at him and spoke simply.

"Drive," Riddle commanded, his finger already on the button that would roll up the opaque window that separated them. Harry, surprised by the order, took a moment to answer in which he saw Riddle get impatient.

"Yes, sir." He said finally, beginning to do exactly that. Riddle, satisfied that he would do as asked, pressed down on the button. Soon, Harry wasn't able to see Riddle at all but he knew that the other could see him perfectly. When he realised that the screen was one sided, it was a weird feeling as he never knew if he was being watched or not but he grew used to it. Though Harry wouldn't say that he knew Riddle well, he could guess that the guy liked having an advantage over everyone.

Harry suppressed a sigh, turning on the navigation system before focusing all of his attention on the road. Riddle had planned on going to some high class business party he'd been invited to after leaving his parent's house so that was exactly where Harry was headed.

It was some distance away so he had the map on screen just in case, though he was sure that he knew the way. Better safe than sorry, after all. He was really looking forward to waiting in the car while Riddle presumably mingled with a bunch of snobby businessmen.

When he finally made it to their destination almost twenty minutes later, some part of his mind was still pondering on what made Riddle so angry. He'd never seen the man like that before, even though he hadn't known him for long.

He pulled up to the front of the building where he'd seen a car before him drive away from, and where there were large doors that everyone seemed to be going inside through. There were some people in uniform loitering in front of the large building that seemed more like a palace than anything, and Harry guessed that they were the valet parking and the doorman with the invitation list.

Harry knew that he would have to open the door for Riddle, as he usually did so he didn't bother waiting around before he opened the door and got out of the car. The gravel of the driveway crunched underneath his polished, black leather shoes. The cold wind stung him and he blinked dumbly, having not realised how cold it was outside. As he made his way over to Riddle's door, which was facing the building, some people who had been lurking in the shadows made their way out. Paparazzi, Harry realised, glancing at the professional cameras many of them had hanging from their neck. He frowned slightly at them, opening Riddle's door all the way and stepping back to give him space to come out.

Riddle stepped out of the car, all fake smiles and looking impeccable in his Ralph Lauren suit. Harry could reluctantly admit that he looked much better than he had twenty minutes ago. Then the flashes of the cameras began and Harry swore for a second that he went blind. As Riddle began to walk forward, going up the steps, Harry closed the door of the car. He followed Riddle up the steps, blocking one of the Paparazzi when he got a little too close. The guy glared at him, with a scowl on his lips but Harry was just surprised that he was taller than him. He was used to being shorter than most other men, after all. He stared down at the camera wielding journalist until they got the hint and backed off. Harry was momentarily satisfied.

When he looked over at Riddle again he was going inside the building and Harry saw him glance back only once before he disappeared. As Harry asked the Valet where he should park, he could only wonder whether the man had been looking at him or the car.

* * *

"Lucius," Tom greeted his vice-president while plucking a champagne flute off of the nearby tray of a server. Lucius looked briefly surprised at his sudden appearance before it vanished like it had never graced his expression in the first place.

"Tom," He greeted silkily in return, eyes discreetly roving over what his companion was wearing. Tom hid a smirk as he sipped at his drink; it was just like Lucius to judge someone's appearance one second after seeing them. As usual, the Malfoy was wearing only the most expensive clothing, his blond hair tied with a ribbon.

His smirk quickly morphed into a grimace when he tasted the champagne. This particular champagne was not up to his standards at all; it was far too dry. He would have much preferred scotch or something similar instead. That didn't stop him from drinking it though, not at all. Lucius looked almost alarmed as he finished it off almost as soon as he got it, it was amusing to Tom. He looked around at all the people who were discreetly eyeing him, no doubt wanting to talk to him.

Right, if he was going to do this...

Tom reached over, getting another flute of champagne, replacing his empty one and raising it in cheers to himself.

* * *

Harry idly pressed the 'play again' button of the game he was playing on his phone. He was sure that he was a pro at Temple Run now. He'd been sitting in this car for almost two hours now but he was used to the long hours of waiting. It came with the job, waiting around for the client until they were ready. Talk about learning patience the hard way. Normally he would have something else to occupy him, like a newspaper as he enjoyed reading them and doing the crossword puzzles inside but unfortunately, he hadn't found the time to buy one today.

Harry was just about to put his phone away when he got a text message. He wasn't really surprised and had an inkling to who it was from. He was right; it was a message from Riddle, telling him to go to the front of the building. He was happy that he wouldn't have to sit here for much longer and with that thought in mind he started the car, driving to the place where he had dropped Riddle off.

He was surprised that there weren't any other cars blocking his way and assumed that either Riddle was leaving earlier than everyone else or later. Harry hadn't seen many other cars leave the car park before him, so it was probably the former.

He saw Riddle standing in the open doorway with a platinum haired man who Harry didn't recognise at first. It took him a few seconds to realise it was Lucius Malfoy and when he did, he wasn't surprised that he was with Riddle. He'd seen him around the office quite a few times.

Riddle saw him and came out from where he was loitering in the doorway of the building, Malfoy following him, saying something that Harry couldn't hear. He unbuckled his seat belt, hastily getting out of the car and heading over to the one of the rear doors that Riddle would get in the car through. He had wrapped his hand around the handle of the car door when he saw Riddle stumble as he came down the few steps that led to the platform the building was on. It wasn't as if he had tripped or something, it was only a small stumble but nonetheless it caused Harry's eyebrows to shoot up into his hairline.

He knew he shouldn't be surprised as Riddle was only human after all, it wasn't like he was some sort of God, although usually the man was so composed and almost graceful in his movements. He just tried to forget it as he opened the car door because Riddle continued to act as if he had not faltered in his step at all.

He saw Riddle glance over at Malfoy meaningfully as he got into the car and wondered what it meant as Riddle gestured for him to close the door. He did as asked, glancing over at Malfoy who was about to go back inside of the building and inclining his head.

"Mr. Malfoy," He said politely as a greeting, still pretty curious to what was going on between them but knew it was none of his business so he had no right to ask. Malfoy's eyes seemed to slide over him before he nodded shortly in reply and disappeared back into the building.

Harry figured that was the end of that so he got back into the car, starting it and glancing instinctively at the screen that was a part of the dashboard, showing what the camera's at the rear of the car were filming. The barrier that separated him and his employer slid down making him glance at Riddle with poorly concealed surprise.

"To your house, right sir?" Harry questioned, already knowing the answer but figured that was what Riddle wanted to say because what other reason could he have for his action. There was something strangely off about Riddle, though Harry couldn't put his finger on it. Maybe it was because he was still a little wary about Riddle being angry?

"Yes..." Riddle confirmed, trailing off as he appeared like he was thinking about something, whatever it was it probably wasn't pleasant because of the way his features twisted themselves into a disgruntled expression. After a moment, it seemed like Riddle wasn't going to say anything else despite the screen being down so he started to drive, pulling away from the building.

Harry heard something though it took him a few seconds to realise that it was Riddle muttering under his breath as if he was wishing misfortune upon someone or something. He heard a disparaging comment about Riddle's father and rolled his eyes, speaking under his breath in a scornful tone before he could stop himself.

"At least you still have one." He regretted saying it immediately, not knowing whether or not Riddle would hear it. His filter seemed to have disappeared. His eyes flickered up to the rear view mirror.

Judging from the way Riddle's eyes lit up in interest and he leaned forward, he had heard it. Harry silently berated himself over the moments where he couldn't control what came out of his mouth.

"Oh? What was that?" Riddle questioned, apparently wanting him to repeat it. He hated the way those dark eyes boring into him made him want to fidget.

"Nothing," Harry lied, hoping Riddle would drop the subject. He could feel Riddle scrutinizing him closely but, to Harry's relief, he did not pester him on the topic.

"If you say so," Riddle hummed, and Harry could tell that he was obviously curious; who wouldn't be? But for some reason unknown to him, he didn't ask. Well if Riddle really wanted to know about Harry's family he could easily find out about him later on, that Harry was sure of. He wondered why Riddle had let his guard down all of a sudden and was actually talking to Harry for once. There was a thought niggling at the edge of his mind but he just couldn't grasp it so he just decided to focus on driving.

"It's not raining for once," Riddle commented, glancing out the window up at the dark sky. It took a few seconds for Harry to realise that Riddle was attempting to initiate casual conversation about the weather and he was sure that the disbelief he was feeling was quite obvious to distinguish. Harry risked a glance back at Riddle when the car was at standstill because of traffic and saw the other man was staring straight at him. Riddle seemed to see his surprise and raised his eyebrow as if to say 'Yes, I'm talking to you.' Harry, rather embarrassingly, felt his cheeks grow warm at the patronizing look.

"Yeah, for once," he replied finally, realising awkwardly that he had taken a long time to respond to the statement. He didn't look to see Riddle's reaction but had a sneaking suspicion the other man was smirking at him. "Even if it were raining you wouldn't be outside." He continued boldly, wondering if he was overstepping his boundaries.

"True," the other man agreed simply, momentarily surprising Harry. He wondered why it was strange to hear Riddle agree. What else was he supposed to say? Harry found himself coming up with a blank. He truthfully didn't know much about Riddle at all; apparently Riddle wasn't the type to pour his heart out even when he's drunk.

Harry could tell Riddle was drunk as soon as he opened the door to let him into the car; it wasn't easy to mistake the scent of alcohol lingering around him. The scent was engraved into Harry's mind from his childhood thanks to Vernon. He didn't know how drunk but apparently enough to make the normally composed man stumble even the slightest. Harry didn't like to admit it though some part of his mind associated Riddle with something above the human species, with all his good traits outweighing his flaws.

Silence descended in the car; however compared to before it wasn't an awkward atmosphere. Harry wouldn't say it was entirely comfortable either. Neither spoke on the rest of the drive to Riddle's manor.

When Harry got out of the car to open Riddle's door, the moon was shining brightly in the open sky overhead. He opened the door and noticed Riddle was staring at him intently, it made an uncomfortable prickle race over his skin. Harry's shifty eyes were the only sign of his discomfort as Riddle got out of the car, towering over him. They gazed at each other in silence for a moment before Harry spoke, shattering it.

"I'll pick you up tomorrow, right Mr. Riddle?" He was desperate to make something in this situation familiar, already thrown out of his depth by having a conversation with the man, no matter how small it was. Of course Riddle took his time to reply, seemingly focused on something. Harry did not know what as his gaze was roving over the front of the estate, noting not for the first time how eerie it seemed at night. The large street lamps lighting up the front did little to subtract from this, instead casting even more questionable shadows. Though at least with them you would be able to see where you were walking.

His attention was caught by Riddle when the man cleared his throat, stepping towards the direction of his manor.

"Yes, as planned." Were the only words he murmured before walking away from Harry without so much as a goodbye. Harry watched his dark form blend into the night and listened to the gravel crunch under his feet while he stood there, wondering why he felt so offended. It wasn't as if he expected something to change with the fact they had a small conversation?

Harry pursed his lips, feeling almost disappointed in himself as he got back into the car and started the ignition.

As he drove home he tried to push away thoughts of dark eyes staring into his and how stunning Riddle looked in that expensive suit. He really didn't need to deal with that right now.

* * *

Tom leaned his forehead on the cool porcelain tiles in front of him, feeling the hot water pour down onto his head from the showerhead above. His entire posture could be compared to one of a defeated man, which was definitely unusual. It did not suit someone like Tom, who was ruthless in his ambition and did everything to get what he wanted.

Perhaps it was because he was alone in his manor and did not have to face anyone that he became vulnerable. One could definitely go mad from putting up a front their entire lives, after all. He straightened up from his slumped position and tilted his head back, letting the spray of water hit his face. The temperature of the water did not bother him and the only sign it was hot was his skin becoming flushed.

He was feeling decidedly more awake than he was before, thanks to the strong coffee he drank. If he hadn't he would probably be passed out in his bed right now. That didn't mean he still wasn't drunk; not at all. He regretted drinking as much as he did a few hours ago, which was decidedly an unfamiliar feeling. He was Tom Marvolo Riddle, he didn't feel regret. All his actions were done with certainty and careful thought. The fight with his father must have put him off more than he thought. He felt weak though the logical side of his brain, which had become cloudy due to the alcohol, told him there was no use wallowing over it.

There was another thing preoccupying his thoughts though, other than his disgusting self-pity and that thing was his chauffeur: Harry Potter. Harry's comment had intrigued him for some reason; Tom blamed it on his alcohol addled brain. He still couldn't think very straight of course so his thoughts kept wandering to Harry. His mind seemed to think his chauffeur standing in front of the open car door with the moonlight shining down on him was one of the most wondrous sight it's ever beheld.

Yes, he was definitely drunk if he thinking of his mind as a separate entity. Tom carded his hands through his hair, tugging on it with frustration. The water was beginning to shift from hot to warm now and he decided that he should sleep on it. Hopefully all thoughts of his chauffeur being easy on the eyes and amusing entertainment were just a side effect of drinking too much champagne.

He stepped out of the shower, dripping water onto the floor as he did not bother to reach for a towel just yet. He slicked his wet hair out of his eyes, staring at his reflection in the large mirror opposite him. His reflection seemed to be judging him, Tom noted with annoyance. With a scowl, he ripped the towel off from where it was hung up on a metal hook and skulked out of the bathroom. He was not weak. The thoughts of Harry Potter were still shifting around in his mind and him not able to escape them, decided he would act on them tomorrow. It would be a welcome distraction after all. A smirk slid on Tom's lips as feelings of regret were replaced with excitement about this new plan of his.

Perhaps getting drunk wasn't an entirely useless experience, Tom mused as he dumped the used towel into the clothing hamper.

Not useless at all.


End file.
